Dracula Retold
by MrsIanBale
Summary: From the shadows, someone has been the silent guardian for the House of Dracula. That someone is the one who created the legend, who made a deal with the devil to protect his son. But Vlad the III, also known as Dracula, had won the ability to protect his son's sons. So when a new threat arises and his great-times something-grandson is in danger, it is time for Dracula to step out
1. Blood

This is Romania. History is witness to many dynasties who have ruled with sword and blood. Since 1011 AD, countless invaders have ravaged and plundered this land. And then came, the Draculs. Founded by Mirceah the first, the Dracul Dynasty passed from Vlad II to his son, Vlad III. Among all the Dracul Princes, Vlad III achieved the greatest heights, famous as Vlad the Impaler, and rumored to have made a treaty with the devil for the sake of his family. Till today, Vlad the Impaler's remains are unknown.

Castle Dracula, the year 1537. All the courts were filled with people, the more important ones sitting closer to the Prince's Court, and so forth. The funeral procession was signaled by ringing of loud bells, and every body in every room stood up as the procession went through. The first in line was the bell ringer, followed by members of the church: the deacons first, then the priests, the bishops, then finally the Pope. Behind him started a troop of the Royal Guard which encircled the carefully selected few who carried the dead Prince to the funeral grounds. And then the second bell ringer came, whom everybody else followed, including the only person hidden in a dark cloak.

The funeral procession lead to the Prince's Court, stopping in front of the Royal Balcony, in which sat the next Prince of Romania, Vlad V, son of Miceah. The 13 year old boy stood and the funeral liturgy began. A grand eulogy given about Prince Miceah and his legacy were sandwiched between passages of the Holy Book and more ritual quotations. The pope looked to the in-ten-minutes future Prince for permission, and the young boy looked to his advisor. The old man assuringly nodded to the young Prince and he gave the go ahead to the Pope. Commonly, the dead were coffined and buried, but only for the sake of the House of Dracula, since the reign of Ingeras, the dead were to be sprayed with Holy Water and burned till nothing remained but ash, ensuring a true death. The water was sprayed and the fire was lit, and little Vlad let down a tear as his father's corpse was set to flames. The boy sucked in a sob and the cloaked figure tightened his fingers in a fist, his other hand smacked the cement pillar he was hiding behind, sending a thin crack all the way to the top.

The funeral was completed and the Prince's ashes were poured into an impenetrable box, then buried under his headstone, which lay next to the headstones of all the past princes, up to Prince Ingeras. As the Prince was buried and the chants of his peaceful rest were made, the Pope was lead up to the Royal Balcony, the crown being walked up behind him. Vlad V knelt in front of the Pope as the rituals were said.  
"The crown of Dracul," the Pope announced as he lifted the crown from its pillow and raised it for all to see. Then, he placed it on Vlad's head.  
"Rise, Prince Vlad the Fifth, of Romania. Long live the Prince."

"Long live the Prince! Chanted every voice in the castle, including the one belonging to the cloaked man behind the pillar.

"As the Prince is yet to be of 18 years, who has been named the regent by Prince Miceah, may he rest in peace."

"May he rest in peace!"

"I, Emilian Lupei, have been named the regent for the boy Prince Vlad." Said the man who had stood next to Vlad, and who was commonly known as Lupei, which meant the wolf in Romanian.

Lupei stepped forth and knelt in front of the Pope as he was oathed into office. The Pope put a smaller crown on Lupei's head, and the new regent smirked evilly as he rose to stand before the people.

"The death of a Prince, is always a tragic loss for his people. Prince Miceah was a good Prince, who reigned over all but a few nations of the great kingdom of Romania. It was his wish to leave for his son a united Romania, but his untimely death keeps him from fulfilling his promise. As a loyal advisor to the dead Prince, and regent to the new, I shall see to it that Prince Miceah's words are fulfilled, even if it comes after his unfortunate demise, and bring to Prince Vlad a united Romania! Prince Miceah, may he rest in peace! Prince Vlad, long may he live!"

The crowd chanted and Lupei looked back to the young Prince, scaring the boy with his smile. Down below, the hooded figure saw the regent's crooked smile, and also, heard his evil thoughts loud and clear.

Vlad the Third turned away from the pillar with anger splayed across his face, striding off in the opposite direction of the crowd.

"So long as I remain, none shall hurt the people of my blood."


	2. Destiny

And then there was Princess Caterina, born to the house of Danesti in Wallachia. Daughter of Prince Andrei and Princess Ileana, Caterina was betrothed to Prince Aurel of Bacau. The Danesti were taught the art of combat from childhood, to protect their families and homes and kingdom. Among the warriors, was Prince Xander, Caterina's cousin. Xander loved Caterina. He was by her side whenever she beckoned.

Andrei was crowned Prince following the demise of Xander's father, and Xander was left isolated. Yet destiny has much greater plans in store for him, away from the walls of Wallachia. The princess 's future too would lead her away from the Romanian province.

The year is 1538. The Dracul dynasty had almost ended following Prince Miceah IV's accidental death. Taking advantage of the situation, Prince Vali of Arad seized the Suceava Castle, and a great battle was at hand. On one side was Prince Vali, with an army twice the size of the Dracul army. On the other side was Emilian Lupei, Prince Miceah's "loyal" general who was training the 14 year-old Vlad to take on his father's mantle.

"You must consolidate Romania! Your courage will lead to victory. I, EmilianLupei, loyal servant to the Dracul dynasty, remind you once again, the future of the Draculs is in your hands. Until he breathed his last, your father Prince Miceah, had only one dream: to see the Dracul flag flying over Romania. God willing, it will be you, who will fulfill his dream! Long live Prince Vlad"

"Long live Prince Vlad!"

"Prepare to attack! If we can kill Prince Vali, his army will scatter. Vali's eyes alone are exposed, unprotected by armor. Vlad, appoint an archer who must strike him in the eye." The general asked the teenage Prince, who nodded for Lupei to do what he must, pleasing him.

Lupei selected archers and sent soldiers on their missions, and then ordered for a prisoner to be brought forth, and his soldiers did as he asked.

"Your glorious Majesty! For the first time, today, allow your sword to prove its worth. Behead the traitor and bring glory to the Dracul name." The soldiers threw the old man to his knees in front of the boy prince, and Lupei handed him a sword.

"He is worse than a dead man, Lupei. How can I strike him?" Asked Vlad upon seeing the bone thin old man, with barely any meat under his skin.

"If you do not, the army will take it amiss and not believe you are a true Dracul. Do as I bid!" Lupei angrily addressed Vlad and thrust the sword in his hands.

"Soldiers! My brave Dracul soldiers! Like his ancestors, our Prince Vlad V, is a true Dracul! A glorious future to the young Prince!"

"Long live the king!"

This is how Emilian Lupei not only regained the Suceava throne for the young Prince, but established his own rule, proving his actions just, by saying that he was acting to the approval of the Prince. As Lupei sat at his throne in Castle Dracula, his friend and loyal advisor came to see him.

"My lord." The friend bowed.

"Petre, what brings you to my court?"

"A matter of importance, if I may be so outspoken."

"Alright, out with it."

"If you allow me to speak without audience."

"Fine. Clear the court!" Lupei ordered and everyone else bowed and left.

"What is it, Petre?"

"The boy prince, Vlad."

"What about him?"

"He no longer remains a boy. He is coming of age, and beginning to be observant to his surroundings."

"I see yes, this is important, yes. What can I do?"

"Have him sent away, away from court, away from you. Lest he grow up against your wishes. Send him to a cabin in the woods, with a trainer, and a tutor, and a few guards that will watch him and run back and forth."

"Excellent thought, Petre. I shall act upon it at once! Nicola!" Lupei beckoned for a guard lead.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Prepare a convoy for the Prince. Find a best battle trainer and a tutor and bring them to me."

"Yes my lord," Nicola bowed and scurried away.

The next day during breakfast.

"My Prince, I have an urgent matter to discuss with you."

"What is it, Lupei?"

"I can see, my lord, that you are coming of age, yet you are neither learned nor are you comfortable with the art of war."

"I am 14 Lupei, what must you expect of me?"

"I'll remind you, that you are a Dracul. In that sense, you shall be tutored and trained in the art of war. But,"

"But?"

"The castle is not a safe place for you to do so. If word gets out, enemy rulers may send assassins to get rid of you. For your own safety, I shall send you to a well maintained cabin in the far woods, fit to your liking, where you will be with a trainer and a tutor, who will raise you to be fitting to your name. A true, Vlad Dracula."

"Are you sure this is allowed?"

"But of course, my young Prince. I shall only do what is best for you."

"Okay, I will go."

"Excellent decision, my prince. I have already prepared a convoy for you, and I suggest you leave soon after breakfast so as you can get there in light."

"But firstly, have my friend Alexei brought to me."

"My prince-"  
"If I am not to see him for some time, I shall properly bid him farewell. If it is such hurry for you to send me away, then I suggest you quickly have Alexei in my chambers."  
"Of course, my prince."

The young prince walked quickly away to his chambers where some maids were busy packing trunks full of his clothes. He was sitting by the window, playing with a toy, when Alexei knocked on his already open door.

"May I come in, my prince?" The other boy mockingly asked.

"Alexei, prietene, I am not your prince, I am your friend. And you are as a brother to me."

"And you to me. But you sound upset, Vlad."

"Lupei is having me sent away from the castle. He claims it to be the best for me."

"How long will you be gone?" Alexei asked and sat next to his royal friend.

"So far, the maids have packed three trunks. Two of them hold clothes that would fit me in another four years."

"So you are expected to be gone for at least four years, huh?"

"That is why I asked for you to be brought here. I wanted to say goodbye face to face. I know not when I shall see you next, or if this is to be the last time." Young Vlad sighed, almost teary eyed.

"Hey!" Alexei jumped off the window sill, attempting to cheer up his friend. "You and I are best friends, born together, we'll die together. And I shall be here, waiting for you. Now, in the case that you do not wish to grow old standing here by yourself, let's go play!" The peasant boy pulled the prince's arm and dragged him with as they both ran down the hidden stairways, off to play in their usual spot, one last time.


	3. The Protector

The convoy was readied: horses were loaded, carriages were packed. Prince Vlad was forced to say goodbye to his friend, possibly for a very long time.  
The castle staff, the good ones, knew of Lupei's intentions, and prayed for the safe keeping of their little prince. He was given given his own horse, the one in the middle of the parade. They raced off towards the forest, shadows running right beside them; shadows that weren't necessarily theirs.

The forest neared and their pace slowed. Vlad began to look around his new home. Thick groups of trees, between which, different fauna skittered through. He saw deer, wolverines, Lynx, foxes. A bat fluttered from one tree to another and Vlad stopped his horse; bats lived in caves, not forests. Vlad stared between the trees, almost sure he'd seen something, or someone, when a guard came up and pushed the Prince to move along.

Dracula quickly turned away and pressed his back into the tree as he sighed, relieved and distraught.

Not an hour had gone by before the convoy reached the cabin in the woods. The soldiers disembarked and tied their horses to the trees before they went to unload the prince's luggage. The cabin door was opened by Vlad's tutors, who had already arrived the day before.

"Welcome to your new residence, Prince Vlad. May I suggest you disembark and come in for a rest? The earliest we can begin on you training, the better."

"No, I will ride through the forest more. Accustom myself to my new surrounding." He pulled the reigns

"Of course. Shall I ask the guards to accompany you?"

"No. I shall appreciate the solitude." Vlad stated to the tutor and tottered off without waiting for a reply.

Survival guide in mind, Vlad rode his stud in silence. He counted the trees he passed, noticed the natural landmarks that would take him back to the cottage. Among all this, his eyes and ears were keen on one target: the bat. If there'd been one, there would have been many others. Vlad trotted towards the two trees he'd seen the bat, and his horse spotted it first. The beast was scared, and whinnied and lifted his front legs, and it took all of Vlad's strength to reel the horse in.

When the horse calmed somewhat, the Prince looked around for the bat, but instead saw a shadow walking away in the hurdle of trees.

"You there! Stop!" The Prince shouted and the figure stopped.

Dracula stopped, curling his fingers in and cursed, then slowly approached the young prince, his hood still drawn over his face.

"Remove your cloak." Beckoned Vlad as the man neared, and again his horse whinnied in fright and moved back.

The older man hesitated for half a minute, then did just as he was told. He removed the hood from his head, but had to step back into the shadows to adjust to the sunlight.

"Do you have a name, sir?"

"My name is Alistair." Dracula lied, his face to the floor.

"Alistair? Did you know my father, Prince Miceah?"

"May he rest in peace. Yes, I was a companion of your father. He was a good man. A good Dracul."

"So you are real?" Vlad jumped off his horse, which didn't waste a second to run back to the cottage.

"As I stand before you in flesh and blood." Alistair moved out of the shadows, and smoke rose from his skin, then it stopped.

"My father told me stories of a man named as yourself. But no one believed them past stories, as no one had ever seen, or ever heard of you."

Alistair chuckled.

"I am not a very sociable person. But I help those who come to me with good intent, I watch over the innocent."

"Then you truly are an Alistair, a noble protector."

"Aye."

"If you are as you say, then why is that horse afraid of you? You know, they say that beasts can tell more of a man than another man."

"It is true. I was a bastard, cursed by the devil, but I have learned to be a friend to man, despite what they say about me."

"That's why you only come to the good?" Vlad noticed.

"A good man isn't quick to make a judgment. The horse, you did not give it a name?"

"It was not mine, the soldiers gave it to me for travel."

"If you like, I can teach you how to catch one for yourself."

"You can do that?" Vlad asked, amused.

"I have spent many ages in these forests. It has-" Alistair was cut off by the shouts of the guards, the horse going back empty seated wasn't a good thing for them.

The younger Vlad turned towards the noise while a new voice started behind him. He turned back to see Alistair gone, a lone bat following its colony away.

"There he is! Prince Vlad!" The guards shouted simultaneously, their speeches overlapping.

"I am fine! The beast crossed paths with a snake and ran back. You may take this one back, I will catch myself a horse."

"Do you know how, young prince?" The soldier, who returned him onto his horse, asked.

"I look forward to learning it," Vlad replied as he looked one last time to where Alistair had disappeared, then followed the soldiers back to his new home.

OoOoOoOoO  
"Aha! My arrow split yours! I win!"  
Caterina cheered as she won the archery game.  
"And by definition, I win." Prince Aurel proclaimed.  
"No you don't! You didn't even get close!" Caterina stood in his face and thrust her hand towards his own target.

"You are mine, and therefore what is yours, is mine. And anyway, you will be mine when we're older, then you'll have to do as I say." Prince Aurel rudely reminded her, then flung his bow away before he ran out to his friends.

Prince Xander hung his own bow over his back and came up behind Caterina. She didn't jump when she turned, so skilled was she already.

"Must I marry that beast of a man!"  
"I know no other who can tame a beast better than you." Xander complimented her to cheer her up.

"Exactly. Because I am good at fighting, at least I'm better than _that_ buffoon!"  
"Then prove it." Xander teased. He put off his bow to the side and unsheathed his sword. Caterina scoffed, then drew out her own and stood ready.

"Careful what you wish for, Prince Xander."  
"Enough talk! En garde!"


	4. A Good Prince is Hard to Find

That night, Vlad was restless in his bed. Partly that the bed he was sleeping on was less comfortable than his bed at the castle, partly because of the dreams he had. He dreamed of his father's stories, the ones in which Alistair played a part; and now he had a face to the legend. The bats too came in his visions, adding to the mystery of the man, and even in his dreams, he couldn't wait to see him again.

Not far from the cabin, Dracula, or Alistair, also tossed and turned in his sleep, more his dreams to blame than the bed. He'd gotten used to uncomfortable beds, even since before he became Dracula. But he'd never get used to dreaming about his son, his little Ingeras. The boy he'd had to watch from the shadows, the desire to touch his son more agitating than his thirst for blood had been in those three days. At times, Ingeras' face would morph into Vlad V's, and Dracula would jolt awake with the dread of not bring able to save his family in the dreams. He'd often go wander through the forest, even sometimes watch over his name sake through the window, watching him sleep like he used to watch Ingeras sleep.

The next morning, Vlad woke up excited. The tutors expected him to make a fuss over having to live in the cabin, but he didn't.

He quietly walked into the dining room and sat down for breakfast, which wasn't as lavish as at home, but he wasn't thinking about food at the moment.

"Can either of you teach me how to catch a horse?" He asked over his food.

"To catch a horse? Why the sudden urge?" The tutor was surprised.

"My last one threw me off in fear of a serpent. I shall have one that I know I can ride, as I shall have tamed it." Vlad announced boldly.

"It is quite a feat to tame a beast. You will get there, eventually. But that is not a priority for now. Would you like to start after breakfast?"

Vlad slumped, disappointed.

"Alright, fine. But you won't take all of daylight. I'll like to explore the woods more by myself."

"As the young Prince wishes." The tutors conceded.

After breakfast, his time was divided between the tutor and the war master. First was the tutor, who gave Vlad a lesson on local politics and demographics. The prince contained his yawns and was relieved when it was time for practice with the war master. The man was yet to give the young prince a sword yet, but still wrung the boy out on physical exercise and fight skills.

From his weary state by mid evening, the teachers prayed he had given up on his intended expedition. But the minute the sun set, the prince was full of life again as he collected some belongings and barely announced his intentions as he raced out the door.

Vlad had walked all the way to the circle of trees where he had seen Alistair the day before, but there was yet a sign of him.

 _Flutter!_ Vlad quickly pivoted towards the noise, but saw nothing but a ruffle of the leaves in the wind.

 _Shutter!_ Another noise, yet still nothing. Vlad reading his blade in his hand and closed his eyes, and the next time he heard motion, he threw his blade ahead of it. This time, hearing a squeal in response. The boy quickly opened his eyes, and to his amazement, saw a bat writhing to death as its wings were pinned to a tree. Even more impressively, the creature combusted and fell to the ground in a heap of ash.

"You are good at self learning, my prince." A human voice said and Vlad rolled his eyes as he turned to face Alistair.

"I have been here for-"

"A good prince is patient with his people. If you start demanding everything within the second, your people will grow weary. And tired of you."

"There isn't such thing as democracy in this world. A prince comes to power by blood, as was his father, and his father's father."

"But if you give the people a bad prince, they will revolt. And install a bloodline of their choice."

"A name as strong as _Dracula_ isn't so easy to erase." Vlad boldly announced.

Alistair heartily chuckled at the boy's naivety.

"Is that so? Then prove yourself; catch a horse."

"Do _you_ see any horses that I do not! There aren't any here!" Vlad was yet to whine when Alistair suddenly appeared behind him.

"Do you trust me?" The older man said as he grabbed the boy from his arms.

"My father did, so will I!"

Alistair jumped in the air and Vlad grew amazed as a colony of bats flocked him and he was in the air. It felt like less than five minutes had gone by when they were soon in a clear hillside field.

Alistair didn't need to tell Vlad where they were. The vast grassland, without a tree in sight, was the Pontic-Caspian Steppe.

As Vlad returned to Alistair to speak with him, the ground shook in an earthquake, halting his speech. The men stood aside as a stampede of wild horses raced up from over the hill, as a tribe of proto-indos chased them, lassos swinging in the air ahead of them.

"They will teach me?" Vlad asked as he pointed to the wild looking people.

"No. You will only learn from them, but you will teach _yourself._ After all, you are a mighty Dracul." Alistair handed the prince a rope and stepped away as Vlad threw him a smug smirk.

Vlad carefully positioned himself about the stampede and looked to the indos for inspiration. He followed their movements, stance for stance, whip for whip, call for call. The stampede was thinning, and when he finally caught a horse, it went lame.

Vlad squatted next to the horse, stroking its thick coat as it looked at him through its big wet eyes.

"The horse is lame." Alistair came up behind him. "You must put it out of its misery."

"I am not cruel. I have it not in me to kill it."

"Then you must learn."

"I won't! You can't make me!"

Alistair sat near the horse's head and put it on his lap.

"It isn't cruel to put it out of his misery. No physician can-heal his wounds." He stuttered as he tutored the prince, remembering the death of his wife, Mirena.

Alistair stroked the horse's mane, and closed his eyes as he snapped the horse's neck, ending his misery.

Vlad stood up and walked only a little distance before he threw up. Alistair came up to him and lead him sit down on a hill crest.

"You do not-" Alistair began but was interrupted.

"I understand that there is a need to be learned in war. But there are certain times when there is a need of war itself, or peace."

"That is a great thought," Alistair praised, and again they sat in silence.

"You don't want to be your great grandfather, the Dracula? Your namesake?"

"I have heard his stories. He sold himself to save his son and his people, but he was given to the Turks. I have no desire to be a monster without reason."

"A monster without reason. You are very learned, young prince."

"I truly appreciate you pointing that out. Not most do."

"And when you become Prince?"

"I shall be a kind and peaceful Prince. Unite Romania under a flag of peace, not a reign of terror as Lupei does. And if there need be, I will protect my people, through whatever means I must."

"And you shall find me an ally in your quest of peace."

"It's late. I should retire, or they will send hounds after me."

Alistair laughed and stood up.

"As you wish, my prince."

Dracula watched from the window as Vlad knelt by his wooden bed, making his night prayers. He sped away when the boy was deep in sleep, arriving at an abandoned garden. He sat amongst a bed of red roses, and picked the most thick bloomed one.

"You once said I keep little interest in flowers. Yet the only place I can sense your spirit is here," Vlad talked to the flower, stroking it.

"Mind you, my love. I have a keen appreciation for beauty," he smiled to himself, making wrinkles appear by his mouth.

"The red of this rose is put to shame by the reds of your lips. Or perhaps the red of your blood, that gives me new life. The softness of this flower," he cupped the rose in his hand, as if choking it.

"Doesn't compare to the softness of your skin. Which my teeth broke through." He ripped the petals off the stem and they turned black as they fell between his feet.

He picked up the black petal and held it up as if it were a mirror.

"The curse of long life, that I can't die soon enough to be with you, my Mirena." Vlad stuck the rooted stem of the rose into the ground, and parted the early dawn sky as he walked away,

"As one life is born from the last," the sun shone through the clouds and as the rays descended, the rose stem bloomed another rose, more beautiful than the last, "I _will_ see you again, my love."


	5. a new legend

By the time 5 years went by, Vlad V had adjusted to his life in the forest. His tutors foolishly prided themselves, crediting the prince's grown expertise as a result of their hard work. Little did they know that everything that Vlad V had mastered, was all his own credit, with a little guidance from Vlad III. His agility and acquired skills put to shame two generations of the Dracul House- of course, not even the devil himself could reach the fame Vlad III had earned. Nonetheless, Vlad V was a credit to his name; with the mastery of all kinds of combat, and expertise in world knowledge. Vlad fought his soldiers for game, and still sent them limping back to the castle, where they reported to Lupei. The regent held little concern for the prince, as since he had learned of the Vlad's fragile stature, nothing else mattered. Not his assassin skills, nor his views on politics, since Vlad V wouldn't live long enough to rule; whether by nature or by accident. In the years that had passed, Lupei let the nations rule themselves; not out of the benevolence of his heart, but because he wanted to wait till all the nations were conquered so he could force them all together to bend to his command. He prided himself in his smarts and strategies, that is till he heard of the Prince's plans to return.

"NO!" Lupei's screams echoed in the half empty court as he threw a tantrum. "I will not have it that he return! Transylvania is _mine!_ And soon shall all of Romania be!"

"But sire, you cannot prevent what must come! The people will question."

"Then we must hasten our plans! Kill all who rebel!"

"We are not ready, your grace. If we attack now, we stand to lose!"

"We must _not_ lose! All my hard work, all the sacrifices _I_ have made, I _deserve_ to get what should rightfully be mine! Think Pietre! What can we do to insure our victory?" Lupei stormed around the castle in his rampage, and soon found himself standing at the doors of the forbidden hallways.

"Well," he chuckled, easing his worry. "What _can_ we do to keep what's ours, in the house of Dracula?" The evil smirk on his face made his henchman worry.

"W-what do you conspire, my lord?" Pietre dared to walk closer even as his legs trembled on his own weight.

"Why, a deal with the devil, of course!" Lupei grabbed him by the shoulder and rattled his soul out of him.

"S-sir! But certainly yo-"

"Enough, Pietre! Go, my friend," he dulled his voice to a motherly tone. "Go, fetch the keeper and bring me the keys!"

Pietre stared in horror as if the devil himself had climbed into his already evil master. Lupei laughed and danced merry, gloating at his smarts.

"Do this, for me, Pietre. And I will see to it that your name is only second to _mine_ in all of Romania! We shall live like kings!" Lupei's laugh still echoed in the castle as Pietre ran as far as he could, as far away from the forbidden halls.

The keeper tried every key on the ring, looking for the true key among the duplicates. At sword point, of course. No one in their right mind would unlock the devil's rooms for fun. Soon as the door was unlocked, the keeper ran all the way to the other side of the castle. Lupei stormed in like a conquistador, prideful of his accomplishment. The hall was dark; unlit and undisturbed. He sent Pietre out to fetch a fire torch, and himself walked in the dark guided by the dust covered walls. Pietre returned with a torch, lighting the hall. At the end of it was a wooden door, chained from corner to corner, forbidding anyone from entering. Lupei ripped off a decorative ax from the wall and hacked away at the binds, till there were tiny metal links flying everywhere, and none holding the door shut.

The sacred room used to be part of a church in the time of Vlad III. The remains of an altar with downsized candles stood in front center of the rickety old pews, spider webs filled in the gaps. It was in this room that Vlad Dracula learned of the monster of Broken Tooth mountain. This room contained the recipe on how to be a monster. The men dusted and ripped apart every book they found, none of them the one Lupei needed. Angered by his apparent failure, the reagent flipped a table so far it crashed onto a pew, making it reveal its treasures. Lupei looked on like a child waited for dessert, and fell to his knees among the trinkets. He made Pietre tear down all the benches; the more they broke, the more they found.

It took a while to sort through the junk and the phonies, but they found the book, and some necessary ingredients to replicate what Vlad III had done years ago. They lacked the one thing they needed most: the blood of the monster on Broken Tooth mountain.

"You couldn't gather the _army_ to go up Broken Tooth!" Pietre protested, validly.

"I'll give them an incentive; a bribe. The few who'd go up, with _you,_ Pietre, as their general. I'll make them my elite force. My secret police. Hunt down our most loyal men, Pietre. Or at least, find the low lifes we can buy."

By break of dawn, Pietre led out a troop heading to Broken Tooth mountain. The clan thinned by the first shadows of the night, and not even ten men remained. The men built a fire, and a dome over it to limit the smoke, and huddled to discuss their next plan of action.

"Who's he gonna know if we got the monster's blood or a fox's?"

"Yeah! Ain't gon be me telling him."

They all looked at Pietre, who was standing by a tree. He shrugged and squatted at the fire, warming his hands.

"No reason to eye me up like that! I'm sittin right next to your aren't I? I won't tell him nothin! Pro'lly be my head first."

"So it's settled then. No reason putting our heads in the lion's mouth."

"He'll expect us to be scarred and bloodied."

"We can wrestle a wolf, then blood it. And nobody'll know it but us."

Two nights in the forest later, the men led by Pietre returned to the Castle, bloodied and scarred, shredded skin hanging on bones.

Lupei maniacally greeted them upon their return and, sending the others to the physician's chambers, dragged Pietre back to the forbidden halls. The conniving henchman crossed himself behind his master's back, while he held the vial of blood in his other hand. The devilled reagent threw Pietre into the old church room and looked at him with gleaming eyes.

"Do you have it?!" He begged almost.

"Y-yes, my lord." Pietre wavered as he brought out the container from within is cloak, as if Lupei might suspect the treachery.

He didn't. Lupei took the vial from him instantly and went back to his altar where everything else of the concoction was laid out. By nightfall, the slush in the mortar resembled the pictures in the book, and was satisfactory for the manicked Lupei. Pietre stepped back to the doors as his master lifted the mortar, preparing to drink whatever mix he had concocted. The reagent, having drank in one gulp, wiped his mouth on his sleeve and threw the receptacle away as he stepped out to the balcony for emphasis. No sooner that the full moon peaked through the clouds, Lupei fell on his knees, screaming loud enough for Pietre to hear as he ran to the other side of the castle.


	6. Homecoming

Vlad was 19 now, old enough to leave the woods, old enough to be prince. But Lupei sent no one to collect him, and the newest set of tutors didn't let him leave. The boy- a man now- became agitated by his confinement, often challenging the guards for game. Strong and skilled as he was, he didn't gain any bulk. His physique was frail; he was weak. The open air woods hadn't been good on his immune system, and it was a miracle he lived. On part of his health, that is. His security presented another issue. Vlad's tutors and guards were all at the mercy of the evil regent, Lupei, and they'd been receiving orders of assassinating the prince. But Vlad, trained by the man he had come to know as his great something grandfather, often beat his assailants to shame. But the guards took notice of the toll it took on his health.

One day, though, the threats lessened, and the prince began to drop his guard, but the older Vlad immediately picked up on the battle strategy. It was the calm before the storm, and Dracula urged Vlad to return to his people without awaiting orders from the castle. The new prince was elated to finally escape the woods and return home. Home to the comfort of his castle; home to his people; and home to his good friend Alexei. Vlad had missed the companionship of someone his own age. Dracula and Vlad sat hidden in the thickness of trees, discussing their strategy to take over Lupei, and the supernatural Vlad was so deeply invested in the conversation that he failed to pick up on the low steady heartbeat on the other side of the curtain of trees, eavesdropping on their conversation. The day after the morrow would be Vlad V's homecoming.

"Have a good night's sleep my boy," Dracula suggested, reassuringly squeezing Vlad's shoulder, "for tomorrow on you shall not get _any_!"

Vlad laughed at one of the rare jokes his grandfather made in their time together.

"I am in you gratitude, grandfather. I shall live up to our name."

"I pray you do not have to."

The two men of the Dracul house split company, the younger retired to his cottage for his final rest before his life as the prince began. The older fled to his own sanctuary that was an abandoned garden, where roses grew in the night. Ritually, as he had done for decades, Dracula found the biggest bloomed rose, which to him held the soul of his beloved. He reported to her how events had transgressed since his last visit.

"...He has grown up your grandson. The boy shares more your morals than mine. He dreams of peace and unity. But I fear for him, Mirena. I fear the world may not give him a solid chance. And this Lupei might just be his Ottomans. If he can survive, he will be the greater prince Transylvania has seen in some time. If he survives. If he-"

Dracula sped off before his words finished, running toward the cottage. He smelled blood in the air, blood that wasn't yet spilled. It was different, inhuman, and the first whiff of it had sent his mind back to the first time he held the chalice offered to him back in Broken Tooth. This was Lupei's secret pawn, the storm after the peace. This was...

Wolves?

Being the mutant himself, Dracula didn't waste a second on the possibility, rather he was in full offense mode. The beasts at first displayed shock at his arrival, but quickly overcame the feeling and attacked the newcomer. The wolves jumped him in pairs, leaping on their strong hind legs, launching their full weight at him with open jaws. They got in a bite or scratch before Dracula, in his steaming anger, either dismembered them or pulled their jaws apart enough to cause death. Instead of having dead wolves at his feet, Dracula stood center in a ring of dead bodies; human bodies. Their forms contorted without taking regard of what _he_ had done to them. A running heartbeat stared at him from the doorway of the cottage and he turned to face the teacher, crossing himself with a shaking hand.

"D-dra-dracu-" The man wouldn't have been able to get the name off his tongue, but Dracula didn't give him the chance to. He ran at the tutor, pinning him to the door as he sank his fangs into the throbbing vein of the old man. Dracula expected a sense of pride when the prey's body fell cold to the floor, but the cringeworthy wail he heard made him regret having wasted time on a meal.

He sped to the boy's room, grabbing the assassin wolf by his physical spine and threw him away from the boy. The wolf's body limply flung away as his spine hung with bloody guts in Dracula's hand. The boy Vlad lay writhing on the ground, sputtering blood as he attempted calling out to Dracula. He fell on his knees next to the dying prince, easing his effort to speak.

"H-home," Vlad rasped.

"I am sorry, my boy. I failed. I could not get you home." The legendary Dracula was on the verge of tears.

Vlad weakly shook his head and placed a trembling hand over Dracula's undead heart.

"N-no. Vlad Tepes return home. S-sav home, f-f-fathe-" the boy couldn't finish the word Dracula craved to hear, his head falling lifelessly over his father's arm. Dracula let out a mourning cry so loud that bats flew and wolves howled. He laid his dead son on the proper bed, choosing to bury him at the break of dawn. The rest of the night, he spent studying his new opponent as well as he could from a pile of dead bodies.

By the time sun was at its zenith and the grave dirt had taken to shape, Dracula set off to return home. Not as Vlad Tepes the third, but Vlad Tepes the fifth; though as he marched, in his hand he carried a spear, on which hung the disembodied head of the assassin. By nightfall he was standing at the tall gates of Castle Dracula. He took a calming breath before he reached to knock at the doors of the home he had not been in for decades. His knocks were loud and powerful, drawing attention of the guard in the tower keep.

"Announce yourself, oh man who dares entry at this ungodly hour."

Dracula let out a dry laugh the chosen words.

"I am Vladimir Tepes, prince of Transylvania returning home."

There was commotion in the watch tower as guards scrambled over what to do. Eventually, some came down to ascend the gates. As soon as Vlad's image was wholly illuminated in the light of the hanging fire torches, the men released the pulling chains and the gates crashed loudly behind the homecomer as the guards scattered in fear. Vlad smiled a smug smile as walked into his home; he would enjoy this very much.

After decades of lurking in the shadows, Dracula was finally home.


	7. Home

The calmness in Vlad's mind was in complete contrast with the chaos in the castle grounds. Fire ran uniformly up the walls to light the giant torches as people crowded to see him walking by. Beside the universal fear of the man walking proudly with a head on a spear, there were two reactions to his return; much welcomed, and very unwanted. To some, which also numerically were 'some', it was the emotional well timed return of their rightful prince, who would hopefully right all the wrongs done to them by the current regent. The others, the men of power, the men of money, the men loyal to the current regime, did not take his return with glad tidings. For the tears of joy, Vlad flashed an understanding nod, a silent promise that he heard their cries, giving them hope. To the scowls and menacing glares, he looked away and adjusted his spear higher, silently imposing his authority, that he would not be their friend. The castle door were opened by four soldiers, and the number had doubled by the time he made it to the main court.

"Stop," Vlad ordered, keeping the soldiers around him from opening the two, magnificent calligraphied doors that stood ominously in front of him. The most monumental events of Vlad's life had begun through these doors. He'd been dragged through these doors when he was eight. Ten years later, he'd stood here as the bloodiest soldier of the Ottoman Empire. In the next few years, it was through these doors he had entered a marriage, through these had he carried his children with and without life. Through these doors he'd welcomed Ingeras to his people. Through these doors had someone dared to ask for his son.

Right now, a century later, he stood at this door again, to once again be the savior of his people. The only difference was, that he wasn't Vlad Tepes III, soldier of the Ottomans, but rather as Vlad Tepes V, the Prince of Peace. With that thought, he stormed past his detail and pushed in the doors himself, walking in like he owned the court, which of course, he did. The emptiness of the court was strange to Vlad, who'd heard a multiple hearts beating chaotically, a mix of anger and fear. He stood alone in the ginormous empty room like an idiot, twisting around with a bloody spear in his hand. This absence was clearly a sign of disrespect, as by now, towns over would have heard of his return. A few moments later, long by the patience of an immortal, the doors next to the throne opened wide and in walked regent Lupei, with a fairly heavy detail around him.

Lupei immediately started talking to the man who had his back turned to him, his heart racing at the sight of the headed spear.

"What has it been, 5 long years? You must introduce yourself." Lupei's voice kept cool, since as of recently, he had nothing to fear, except the moon.

Still, nothing could have prepared him, or anyone else around him, when the man turned around to face them, as if he'd just walked out of a portrait.

Lupei's eyes threatened to burst if they grew more, and those around him fervently crossed themselves; earning a smiled scoff from Prince Vlad.

"Clearly, I can be no other than Vlad Tepes," he paused just to tease them, make their blood rush faster, "son of Miceah. The 14 year old boy you sent out into the woods, he's come home."

Before anyone could interject, he raised his finger and continued.

"Because I believe, if I'm well taught and trained enough to... remove my assassins," Vlad swung the spear around so the men around could see what he was talking about, "I think I'm well knowledgeable enough to return to my throne."

Lupei pouted and clapped as if he'd just stopped a joust, slowly.

"I applaud your apparent talent. Welcome home, Prince Vlad." He stopped to address the others. "Subjects, show some respect to your Prince!"

The surrounding men effortfully took a knee, except for the one who was more than willing.

"Yes, yes. Now that you have returned, you are rightfully entitled to your throne. But nor you or us can expect you to be immediately thrown down upon it. Please, may I suggest you take time readjusting back into society, and understanding where our current politics stand. And, as we can all assume from your stance, you've been through hell. Allow us, if you please, to take care of this, spear for you..." Lupei motioned to a soldier to take the spear away from Vlad, which despite the soldier's fear, he gave up with little resistance. "And you may find some peace and relief in your rooms, take a guide if you've forgotten."

Vlad laughed dryly. "Home is not something you forget, be it five or five hundred years."

As expected of him, Vlad made his way to the "children's room", the room that had most recently been Vlad V's room, which Dracula had given to his son Ingeras. The room was both same and different from the last time he'd been in here. It had evolved with the times; the fabrics, new furniture, the paintings, and the settings. Lucky for him, the bed frame was almost the same as it had been in Ingeras's time, and Vlad drew closer to it in reflection. Lost in the memories of a life long gone, he was barely conscious of the presence behind him, but when the heartbeat came closer, Vlad grabbed the dagger in his jacket and spun around, having pinned the intruder to the bedpost with the blade at his throat.

"Should your blade slice me through, I would die happy at your hand."

Vlad took a second to identify the man in his hold. His words were that of a friend, someone who was very close to Vlad V.

"That is a fate unsuited for brothers."

Alexei broke into a smile of relief and Vlad retracted his blade, soon after which he was taken into a hug. Dracula recalled Vlad's yearning to be back with his friend, and he dug into that emotion as he returned Alexei's hug.

"Oof, if your embrace is that strong," Alexie pulled back, flexing his shoulders with a fake pained expression, "I wonder how hard your strike is."

"Believe me, it will be bad against my enemies." He spoke his warning with a light tone, making his way to sit on the edge of the bed.

"What'd they got you eating, horse nads?"

Vlad laughed heartily. It'd truly been a while since he'd heard a good joke.

"They kept me alive on wheat cream. I have a strong feeling they didn't want me coming back."

The solemnity returned heavily to the room.

"Care to join me for a walk? Something you can't die tonight without seeing."

Vlad scoffed a smile and got up, following Alexei around the castle. The young boy felt helpful, reminded Vlad of what everything was in the castle, but Vlad walked around remembering everything from a century ago; how congested every walkway had been, full of overly ecstatic people, living a life of celebrity. If only they'd known. Alexei stopped in front of a hallway very well known to Vlad.

"Remember how as boys we weren't even allowed to skip near these doors?"

This time, Vlad's smile was dead. A century ago, he'd done alot more than skip in this hallway. He was pretty sure they'd left marks on the floor, the doors, the walls, and that was _after_ Ingeras.

Even though he wasn't longer a boy, Alexei still nervously pushed in the doors to Vlad Dracula's main halls. He'd expected dust, but apparently the halls had been very well kept through the century. Vlad wouldn't have stopped if Alexei hadn't stopped in front of him.

Alexei cleared his throat as if about to make a grand speech.

"Vlad Tepes, meet Vlad Tepes." Alexei made introductory motions between the portrait of Vlad Dracula and the man he believed to be Vlad the fifth.

"If you're his reincarnation by face, let's hope you've come back with his heart too. Sure as hell is the perfect time for it."

Vlad laid a reassuring hand on his new friend's shoulders, secretly glancing at the portrait of his Queen has he spoke.

"I am Vlad Dracula. I will avenge my people."

I've got a better version of the ending, it's just lost in my notebooks that are lost in storage


	8. Challenge

Vlad lay on the bed that once belonged to his son. His legs were an inch too long, but his thoughts were not to it. He turned his head down and closed his eyes to kiss Ingeras' curly blonde hair. He had taken after his mother.

"Can we go riding tomorrow, papa?"

"Of course we can!"

"You most certainly cannot!'' said the queen. She could over rule the lord Impaler himself.

"Why not?"cried the Dracul men in chorus.

''Because tomorrow is the day of our risen lord."

''Oh of course! That's Easter. What was I thinking?" Vlad teased and playfully kissed his boy again.

When he opened his eyes next, he was in the bath tub.

Mirena asked what had attacked them, and he lied saying it was wolves. She asked what else was wrong and this time he honestly admitted his fear to his wife. But the queen did not fret at the impossible idea of loosing her son. He confided in her that he wanted peae, starting between them.Vlad grabbed her waist and pulled her into the bath and she screamed of joy. He pulled her into him and kissed her all he could. But then his incisors extended through her flesh and she screamed of pain. Vlad opened his eyes and saw the blood pouring down her back. He pushed her away and sat jolted in the bathtub, alone. Vlad leapt out of the tub and was dried and dressed by the count of three. He paced his room like a caged beast, trapped by his memories. He chose to escape it all and violently opened his door to come face to face with Alexei standing guard.

"Home provides you no rest, friend?"

"It haunts me while sleep evades me."

Alexei laughed and landed a hand on Vlad's shoulder.

"Take a walk with me then, yeah?"

Vlad shook his head and followed. They took the long way, avoiding all other life in the castle. The boys arrived at an enclosed yard.

"Tell me you have not forgotten our place, have you?"

Vlad scoffed and turned to his friend's voice, but found himself alone. He fervently looked around him, but couldn't find Alexei anywhere. Not till he had turned a full circle and received a blow that threw him off his feet. A sword fell next to him and the clang of the falling metal covered the hiss that escaped from Vlad upon touching the silver.

"On your feet, friend. Let us see if you are a worthy prince of Transylvania!"

Vlad smirked and found his footing, then he grabbed the cloth bound hilt of the sword and lunged forward with a yell.

"Nyah!" He yelled, victorious over his opponent.

"Is there no one worthy of fighting me? Or do you lack luster to fight your prince!?"

He turned around and was met with a sword a breath away from his neck. His new opponent was dressed toe to head in a loose white outfit, nothing to see except the eyes.

"You wish to fight me in front of a crowd? You will make a jester of yourself!"

The challenger paid no mind to the threat and swung their sword back, preparing to fight.

"As you wish, fellow." The prince swayed his sword as well, readying to fight.

The opponent made the first blow and he blocked, pushing the other sword away with momentum. The challenger was relentless and the fight became mobile, and the casualties grew. Curtains tore, pillars bruised, vases fell and people were pushed over, but the fight went on.

The two fighters were equally matched, and it felt the duel would run for ages, but an unsuspecting messenger came running down to the courtyard.

"Prince Xander!" The lady called and distracted the prince mid fight, making him loose his sword and fall at his opponent's feet, pinned by his own sword and the other.

"My life lays at your feet, princess!" He mocked and splayed his arms open.

The princess took off her veil and shook her hair free, scoffing at her prisoner. She took away the swords and stepped back, letting her captive stand to his feet.

Prince Xander jumped to his feet and brushed off his pants, then diverted his attention to the messenger.

"What is the reason for this interruption?"

The messenger bowed "forgive me. The queen asks for the princess."

The Princess too turned to the messenger.

"Tell the queen mother I shall join her shortly."

The messenger bowed to her as well.

"As you wish," and then she left.

"Caterina, this isn't fair!" I was about to win when the attendant distracted me!" Xander walked after her, pouting.

But the princess was proud.

"Victory is victory, my dear prince! I have defeated you! Remember Xander, a moment's distraction can change the duel's outcome. A slight distraction can bring defeat..." she paused for effect, then spun around to face him, holding his sword at his neck, "... or death!"

Xander scoffed and took his sword back by the hilt.

"Ah, now the novice teaches the master, is that so?"

"Not teaching. Only reminding."

They walked in silence towards the end of the courtyard.

"Let me tell you, your skills are impressive. A good student absorbs the knowledge she is given, swiftly and well!"

"And if I am a good student, then it is because of my good teacher!" She poked a finger on his shoulder.

He was about to continue when both their attention went to the group of courtesans marching in the halls above the courtyard. In the center of them walked prince Aurel, with a high nose.

Xander cleared his throat and caught her attention.

"Your new teacher will be better."

Caterina was caught off guard.

"New teacher? Who would that be?"

"Why the queen mother of course!"

Caterina rolled her eyes and began cleaning her sword.

"She will teach you all that a woman should know! And soon you will be carried away on a palanquin!"

Caterina, unimpressed at the idea, quickly turned with an accusing finger pointed at him.

"But I have a condition first!"

Xander folded his hands behind his back and leaned forward.

"Pray tell!"

Caterina turned away and walked proudly, staring at the sky.

"I will not marry... till father appoints you the crown prince!"

Xander was dumbfounded. He relaxed his hands to his side and strode after her.

"Caterina, you mustn't make unreasonable demands!"

"But it's true! I have heard father praise your skills. He speaks of your bravery, and the many tournaments you have won! You are proficient in war... deserving to be crowned. Now there's nothing to worry about, am I right?"

Prince Xander started to talk, but was muted by the call of the queen.

"Princess Caterina! Are you aware how dishonorable it is for you that I have to come collect you myself! You shall find yourself in my rooms at once!" The queen beckoned and turned away, and the princess went running after.

Xander shook his head at her and chuckled.

"Oh my dear naive girl!"


	9. War

In his rooms, prince Xander exchanged his training suit for one more fit for court. The court ladies approved his choice with hidden giggles and he rewarded them with a smile, which left his face when he entered court. In front of him was a full house, including prince Aurel and his emissaries. Xander filled a heavy breath as he strode forward with a plastered smile. In his mind he braced for Catarina's outbursts when she were to appear. Xander gave each royal their due respect and found a seat across prince Aurel. He flashed a smile to the other prince knowing Caterina would especially have a word or two to say about her intended. He dared to steal a glance upward to the mezzanine where Princess Caterina sat fuming in her corset confinement.

The proceedings began and important announcements were made. Princess Caterina's wedding was announced for the 4th day of the next month. Next, the crown prince was anointed: loan Belmont, with Xander as his vice. The announcement came with majority applause, but was deafened by Caterina's vocal chagrin.

''No! This is unjust! Not right at all!"

The court fell silent and she earned death glares from Belmont and her mother. Her father though, expected and allowed his daughter to be the character that she was, always open to speak her mind, never to stay silent on injustice. Prince Andrei had wanted Xander as his heir, even trained him to be so, but the votes were against the young prince, most notably, Prince Aurel's.

"Princess Caterina! Know your place!''

"No! You've stolen the seat once before, and this time Xander had even proven himself worthy of it! Prince Xander is-"

She finally shushed when the court doors burst open and in walked a troop of soldiers. They wore red armor and proud smiles as if they were above everyone else. On their backs was a dragon emblem, the undeniable symbol for the house of Dracul.

"No need to argue, my lords and... lady." the man smiled cheekily at the princess who had made her way down the mezzanine.

"You will soon be relieved of the burden to elect."

"You dare barge into my court!" Prince Andrei led the court men to their feet.

"My apologies, your Highness. I am but an emissary from the house of Dracul. I have a message to deliver:

This decree has been sent by regent prince Emilian Lupei! Align your kingdom within a month to the Dracul Empire, and as a loyal subject, pay the tax. If you reject the Emperor's decree, then you will face Lupei's wrath! This disobedience will be deemed a crime. Offenders and their kingdoms will be annihilated. By decree of the prince of Transylvania, Emilian Lupei!

The Transylvanian emissary stood proudly after he was done reading, sure that the court would heed. But Prince Andrei spat at his feet and Prince Aurel strode forth, slaying every other intruder but the messenger. He sheathed his bloody sword and tore the papyrus scroll in one rip and grabbed the proud man by the collar.

"I am just the messenger, sir." The man said still with a smile.

"Now take my message to your prince. We Danesti are unused to such orders. You will not have Wallachia. If your prince is so bent on taking it," Aurel threw the intruder past the door, "tell that little prick to come get it himself!"

As Aurel turned back, clean up was already in progress. The bodies were being taken away and the floors scrubbed of evidence. The silence that had fallen the court for the past five minutes had now disappeared among the chatter that had consumed the room. Prince Andrei caught sight of his future son in law, and made the court quiet.

"There will be repercussions of your actions, prince Aurel. We will have to be ready for war."

"Then that is exactly we will do, your Highness. The proud Transylvanians will not live down their humiliation. I'll be seeing you on the battlefield." Prince Aurel nodded to his father in law and led his entourage to exit.

After his departure, all of Walachia made ready for battle. While everyone was either worried or angry, one person was more than elated. This was to be the first battle to occur when princess Catarina was of age.

In Transylvania, the messenger was met by death at the hands of Lupei himself. The Danesti had dared to rebuke his treaty, embarrassing him. It was war they wanted, war was what they shall receive. And now, Lupei had new war dogs to experiment. He happily interrupted "Vlad" at his fitting.

"My prince, if you please?" Lupei feigned begging at the door.

"Enter, Lupei."

Both Vlad and Lupei rolled their eyes as he entered.

"Speak!" Vlad commanded, ignoring the regent as he fixed his armor chest in the mirror.

Lupei addressed himself to the reflection of the prince in the mirror.

"My prince, as I have done so with many other nations, I had sent out a decree to the Danesti kingdom of Wallachia to peacefully align their kingdom with Transylvania."

"And?"

"Well, the Danesti as you may recall are a proud clan. There has always been bad blood between the house of Dracul and the Danesti. And as you may have assumed correctly, the Danesti have humiliatingly refused an alliance with us."

"Were any and all peaceful approaches made?"

"I'm afraid our only approach had been to send emissaries, and only one had come back alive to report that they had demanded war."

"Well then," Vlad reached for his newly fitted helmet and shoved it on his head. "They asked for war, then war they shall get."

Her aim was true, her sword touching blade side on her nose as she readied herself for battle. Her eyes opened and her sword arced high behind her back, then with a spin of her body, the silver blade cut through the air and a hack echoed through her hiding place. As Caterina stood still with her sword by her side, her melon fiend fell to the floor, diagonally halved.

Her enemy might have only been a fruit, but the juices dripping from her trusty sword made it felt truly like a real battle. With a yelp of joy Caterina twirled around, brandishing her sword. She held up the blade, letting its surface catch the sunlight as the milk of the fruit dripped in her mouth. A much deserved drink after a long battle.

"I thought you'd be here." Xander's voice made the drink catch in her throat as she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth.

She turned to face him with a smile, laughing at herself.

He stood cross armed, watching her with a cocked head.

Caterina rolled her eyes and turned away, going to wipe the her sword clean. She felt him following her and her brows raised in his direction as mischief boiled in her head.

"And how fares your practice?"

"We're good. But we're going against the Draculs. We need to be better. Need better warriors."

Xander knew her well enough to know he wasn't gonna leave here without a fight.

"Good like me?"

"Sure."

"Is that an invitation?"

"Well that would depend..."

Separate from each other, both Caterina and Xander smirked, and Caterina arced her sword back, and the hit of steel on steel rang in her ears as she jumped back to face her opponent.

The air was lit with metal music as the swords clashed and the challengers danced their swords.

Xander rasped a breathy laugh, pressing his sword against hers, forcing her to push against the weight. "It's a bit more of a challenge when your adversary can fight back."

His hazel eyes shone with mirth that made Caterina want to laugh, instead she gritted her teeth through a smile. She grabbed the hilt of her sword with both hands, and rather than push straight up, she twisted her wrists and knocked Xander's sword away and immediately made a strike, not giving him time to recoil. Before her next swing landed on him, Xander had rolled to grab his sword and he blocked, deftly wielding his blade to parry her swing. Caterina met his blow and slowly edged her sword away from his, forcing him to keep coming forward. When he came to the point where he was exactly where she wanted him, she smirked and Xander knew something was up. He tried all his might to gather himself, but he couldn't resist reaching forward further, and Caterina reached out, swinging her sword out and jabbing the hilt of her sword in his back, sending him tumbling forward on the hay floor.

At the least he could brace himself and tucked his vitals and tumbled into the glide.

He let out a yelp as his head banged against the wall. Caterina dropped her sword and ran to him.

"Oh, Xander! Are you alright?! Do pardon me, I got carried away."

His shoulders protected his head and she gripped them, leaning down in hopes of peering at his face.

"I truly didn't mean to hurt you."

His body shook and Caterina was about to cry, but when he lifted his head laughing, all that guilt and sorrow turned into anger and embarrassment.

"You're horrid." Caterina's cheeks were hot with embarrassment. "I thought I'd hurt you."

"Only my ego, sweet cousin,"

Caterina pushed herself off her cousin and came to her feet, storming like a caged lioness.

""Your skills are perfected, Caterina. You are one of the best opponents I've had."

"Mother will forbid me to partake in the battle."

"Well, inarguably, you are a woman. But rest assured, should the war spread back to our doorstep, you have the complete jurisdiction to fight."

He'd meant a joke, but only infuriated her more.

"That is not fair! I am the best soldier you have. I'm certainly better than that sword wielding monkey you call Prince," Xander didn't need to hear his name to know she meant Aurel.

Caterina was almost to her knees, her voice and eyes begging.

"Please, let me join you in battle."

"We shall see."


End file.
